Firewood
by VickyVicarious
Summary: It turns out the excuse of gathering firewood is less than helpful when a certain prince observed the kiss itself. [Captain Swan and Davey Jones, based off the 3.05 sneak peek]


I wrote this immediately before last night's episode, so of course the actual events of the show Jossed it straight away. However, it was based off the sneak peek, so if you haven't seen 3.05 yet, there are **spoilers**.

Based on **yoadrianxxid**'s comment: "seriously, how epic and dramatic would it be if Killian is touching his lips and turns around and BAM!DADDY!CHARMING?"

* * *

Killian turned around slowly, fingers lingering on his lips. His heart was still pounding uncontrollably, he could still _feel_ Emma against him, it was still difficult to breathe. She'd been right, he realized; he couldn't handle it. There was no way he'd ever be able to stand strong against this woman, she was far too much for him and gods, he loved her for it. Yes, he realized, there was no pretending anymore, this was _love –_

"I thought I told you to stay away from her."

Killian flinched hard, hand snapping away from his mouth. It was halfway to the hilt of his sword before he realized just who was speaking to him – and then he hesitated to move his hand away. He might require the blade any moment now, in the interests of survival.

Prince Charming leaned against a tree, just out of sight from where they'd kissed, his arms crossed. He had a fierce scowl on his face.

Killian swallowed nervously, taking a step back. "What are you doing here, mate?"

Charming straightened, allowing his hands to fall to his hips. "I know Snow led us all in a toast to you after you saved my life, but I wanted to thank you directly." A pained smirk twisted his lips. "I didn't realize Emma was already _taking care_ of that."

Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn. Killian shook his head. "It wasn't like –"

"Oh, I saw what it was _like_," the prince hissed. "Tell me, pirate, how long has it been since I told you to _stay away from my daughter?_"

Normally, Killian would have very little compunction about sneering right back in the face of a livid father. He'd even taunt the man with descriptions of how the daughter had _kissed him_, how she'd pulled him close and _devoured _him because she wanted him, she wanted him so badly it ached all through her and she went bloody _wild_ with it. He'd smirk and mention how it was hard to stay away when the lass was panting at your heels, practically _begging_ for more.

But this was Emma, and if anyone was begging in this scenario, it was Killian himself (no matter that she'd kissed him first). She was the first woman he'd ever truly looked at in _hundreds_ of years, she was far too brilliant for him and they both knew it but gods if she didn't answer his challenge. Killian would have done anything that she'd asked in the wake of that kiss. He still wanted to do everything for her, with her, _to her_ – but if he was gutted by her overprotective father now, that seemed out of the cards for good.

Killian wondered briefly how she'd react if Prince Charming simply never returned from his stroll. If it came down to his life or this man's – well, he wasn't even sure he'd win now that the poison was gone, and even if he did it was a sure bet that Emma would never kiss him again. Besides, he was rather fond of the man now, after all they'd gone through together of late. He'd really prefer not to fight him to the death.

Charming stepped closer. "I said, how long?"

_Damn and blast_.

Killian put on what he hoped was a nonchalant smirk and shrugged expansively. "If you'll recall, I never did accede to your demands. We were interrupted before we could finish that conversation."

"All right," Charming nodded. "Let's have it now."

With a slight metallic _shing_, he unsheathed his blade and held it towards Killian's throat. "Now tell me you'll stay away from my daughter."

Killian swore quietly, backing away. His hand itched to go for his own sword, but he was certain that the slightest such movement would only set Charming upon him – and the following sounds of battle would draw the rest of the camp.

"Are you sure this is wise?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and hoping desperately that Charming would back down.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it isn't," Charming feinted forward, and Killian leapt back further – straight into a tree. "I just don't care. Now, answer me! Will you stay away from Emma?"

The wood at his back was rough and he didn't have a chance to roll out of the way before Charming closed in. In moments, a sword was held to Killian's throat, so close he could feel the sharp edge against his Adam's apple as he swallowed. He still had his hook, but that wouldn't be fast enough to protect himself if Charming decided to go for the kill. He'd been slow, distracted by the kiss and his panic at it being seen, and now he paid the price: Killian was completely at the prince's mercy, and they both knew it.

"Say yes," Charming breathed. "Tell me you'll back off and I'll let you go; we'll never bring this up again."

And, really, what other choice did he have? Emma hadn't wanted any more anyway, she'd said it was a one-time thing and just _left_, surely this wasn't worth his life. Killian had always excelled at surviving; he had a natural instinct for it, and he knew very well what he should do here. Even if he couldn't stay away from Emma (there was no bloody way that was happening, not _now_), he could at least promise the prince he would. The man didn't have his daughter's talents, and he already thought little of Killian; he was certain he could sell the lie.

Agreeing to stay away from Emma was the _smart_ thing to do.

But the bloody woman must have kissed his brains out of action, because Killian didn't hesitate for even a moment in his answer: "No."

"No," Charming repeated, eyes narrowing.

"No," Killian sneered, reckless and stupid and so far gone he couldn't even care. "Mate, I'm not going to lie to you – I could no more stay away from your daughter than you could leave your wife for the Queen."

Lying to the prince now would mean hiding. It would mean the end of every short conversation, every shared drink, every lingering moment by the campfire. It would mean the end of _everything_ before it began, because Emma was already running and Killian couldn't afford to be her secret. If he started that now, he'd never progress any further, and he'd rather die at her father's hands than give up on this.

Judging by the prince's scowl, death by her father was looking a very real possibility. Killian steeled himself and met the man's eyes, refusing to back down even as the sword pressed harder and harder against his neck. He would not die a coward.

The prince's eyes widened.

"You love her," he breathed, and suddenly the sword was sheathed, the man himself stepping several paces back. "How long?"

"I – no," Killian stammered, shocked. "That's not –" His shoulders slumped and he looked away, unable to finish the sentence.

The prince's voice was much calmer now, more thoughtful. "I know what love looks like, Hook – even if you didn't compare yourself to Snow and me, I'd recognize that look in your eye."

Strangely, Killian felt more vulnerable now than he had moments ago, with a sword to his throat. He reached for his hook and fiddled with the tip, unwilling to look back at the prince.

"I've only just realized," he admitted hoarsely, then swung his head up angrily. "But you won't make me leave her. The only person who can do that is Swan herself."

Charming looked… almost sad. "No," he said slowly. "No, I can see that."

"If it's any consolation, there's very little chance I'll ever be calling you 'father,'" Killian sneered bitterly, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable with the look on the prince's face and wanting to dispel it by any means necessary. "I'm not certain you heard – but she informed me quite clearly that was a 'one-time thing.'"

Charming's face contorted in disgust, and he snorted. "I'd never let you call me 'father.'"

Killian shrugged acknowledgement and turned away, eager to be done here. "Well, best gather that firewood then."

The prince joined him after a moment, and they spent the next several minutes collecting wood together in silence. They were almost within the camp by the time Charming spoke again, a low whisper in Killian's ear as he brushed past towards his wife.

"I'm something of an expert on love, pirate," he said. "And that did not look like a one-time kiss to me. So watch yourself – because I'll be watching too."

Then he carried on ahead, and Killian ought to follow, he should. But Emma was directly across from him, sitting by the fire with her chin resting in her hand – _fingers on her lips_. Their eyes met, and though hers immediately widened and she jerked upright, Killian couldn't control his sudden grin.

He couldn't bring himself to care at all for the prince watching him carefully, or for Snow turning to look his way as well. He didn't even think before he was already striding across the camp, directly towards Emma who looked more and more panicked the closer he got.

"You seem cold, Swan," he grinned, halting just before she would have stood and moved away. "How fortuitous that I happen to have brought some firewood."


End file.
